


“Love is dope, not chicken soup.”

by notjustmom



Series: Tom Robbins Remix [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Love Confessions, M/M, Tom Robbins, angsty fluff, hospital fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 08:51:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom





	“Love is dope, not chicken soup.”

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Čeština available: [“Láska je jako droga, ne jako kuřecí polívka.”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16024532) by [QueenMedbtheSecond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenMedbtheSecond/pseuds/QueenMedbtheSecond)



John had always assumed he would know love, when he finally came across it, because it would feel like comfort food, like his Nana's chicken soup. She would always make it for him once he was over a stomach bug, the best thing he ever ate, and then he would sleep for hours, knowing he was safe and loved.

He was wrong.

When he realized he was in love with Sherlock, and that Sherlock was in love with him, it felt like being hit with a lorry, not once or twice, but at least six times. 

No. That doesn't sound quite right. 

Love is supposed to be warm and fuzzy, flowers - no, not flowers, exactly, but he didn't think he'd find love looking back up at him in a dark alley, on a moonless night, his trigger finger frozen to his piece, until Sherlock knocked it from his hand, then passed out in his arms. Love was not meant to be waiting for hours in the world's worst chair, not drinking the worst coffee in the world, but afraid to get up and walk over to bin it, in case someone was looking for him - but somehow, he came to understand that this is precisely what their love was meant to be. He tried talking himself out of it. There should have been a warning, he thought, as he took a sip of the worst coffee in the world without thinking, flashing lights, sirens, something that could have told him -

He shook his head. 

He had known. 

He had always known. And he knew, at that moment, that love wasn't gentle, or soft or comfortable, at least not for them. It was, no, he, Sherlock - was like a drug, no, he was a drug - and John realised he was in over his head, and he didn't care. He didn't want the 12-step program, he just needed Sherlock back home with him. 

"Dr. Watson?"

"Hmm, yes, is he -" Somehow he got to his feet, binned the coffee, and waited to hear his sentence, either way, it would be for life.

"He's fine, well, fine for someone who was an inch or two from dying a few hours ago. He's asking for you."

He nodded and followed the nurse, who was telling him things he should know, but he couldn't make himself turn the words into something his brain could understand. His heart kept telling him he's alive, he's alive - he's - damn. He pushed the door open, and dropped into yet another ugly, uncomfortable chair, taking Sherlock's hand gently in his as he whispered, "I love you."

"John?"

"Yeah. It's me."

"Say it again."

"What?"

"That thing you just said."

"I love you?"

Sherlock nodded and mumbled, "not what I thought it would be like."

"What?"

"I thought it would be harder -"

"Harder?"

"You know, the silly romantic claptrap, the dinners, the poetry, flowers - no, not flowers, the wooing bit, wasn't sure how to go about doing that - all I had to do was -"

John closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Sherlock's hand, "nearly die in my arms for me to get my head out of my arse?"

"Not entirely your fault -"

"No?" John nearly laughed, but was too tired.

"Will you stay for a little while? I know you don't like hospitals, but, I'm a bit afraid of the shadows in here -" Sherlock's voice faded out as he drifted off again.

John kissed his hand once more, then gingerly placed it back under the covers, and closed his eyes. "Not going anywhere, Bee, promise."


End file.
